“Don’t be mad at her.”
He jerked up his head. “Is that what you think? That I’m mad at Lucy?”
V held out her hand, and the compassion in her eyes only made the desire to rip something apart worse. “I don’t think she meant to tell me. We were talking about schools and…it just slipped out.”
Slamming the cooler shut, he straightened. “I’d like to take a flamethrower to the fucking courthouse, but I’m not mad at Lucy.” V’s shoulders sagged as if in relief, and he shook his head. “I’ve told her the test results don’t matter, but she doesn’t believe me.”
V slid from the counter and set aside the ice pack. “You can tell me this is none of my business, Sam. I’ll understand.”
He was inclined to do just that, but it was a little too late to shut this particular door. And maybe her knowing the truth about him and Lucy wasn’t such a bad thing. He’d need her trust if he was ever going to discover what happened all those years ago. Trusting her in return was a good place to start.
“It appears Lucy feels differently.” Shoving his hand through his hair, he sighed. “To my knowledge, she hasn’t discussed her fear over the DNA test with anyone. Even me. She throws it in my face every chance she gets, but refuses to talk about it when I try to bring up the subject.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. She likes TJ and she’s opened up some to Anita but, for some reason, she obviously trusts you.”
V’s smile was a little surprised, a little sad. “I like her, Sam.”
He dragged his hand around the back of his neck. “I know you do. It shows.”
She swallowed hard, a sure sign she was uncomfortable with what she was about to say. “Is she your daughter?”
Bingo. Nothing like going straight for the jugular. He needed her trust, but Jesus. He hadn’t been prepared to open a vein to get it.
“As far as I’m concerned, she is.” He slumped against the counter. “But fuck. I just don’t know. Maggie and I were only together for a couple of weeks. She left town with a guitar player headed for California.” He rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “The timing is close enough Lucy could be his.”
“Do you know his name? How to find him?”
Crossing his arms, he shook his head. “No on both counts, and I have no intention of looking for him. I get the feeling there was a revolving door of men in Maggie’s bedroom. While I’m in no position to judge her for the way she lived her life, that doesn’t prevent me from being pissed at the impact her lifestyle had on Lucy. The kid doesn’t have an ounce of trust in the concept of stability. She believes I’ll send her packing eventually, and goes to bed every night in fear of what comes next. That’s no way for a kid to live.”
V’s eyes flashed with a starkness that was painful to witness, before she dropped her head to stare at her feet. “Will you? Send her away if it turns out she’s not yours.”
The question pissed him off. He shoved from the counter, bending his knees to meet her gaze. “No way in hell. My name is on her birth certificate. That makes her mine in my book.”
The last thing he expected was for her to step forward and slip her arms around his waist. She briefly pressed her forehead to his chest. “I’m glad, Sam. Don’t let her go. Ever.” Sliding her arms free, she moved back, and damned if there weren’t tears in her eyes. “She needs you, and I think you need her, too.”
“Damn, Red.” He cupped her cheek in his palm and swept his thumb across her soft skin. “Don’t cry.”
She pressed her lips together in a stubborn line. “I never cry.”
She attempted to pull back, but he brought his other hand into play, lifting her face for his study. Gravity left behind twin streaks of wetness as her tears spilled.
“I can see that.” Testing her, he dipped his head and brushed a kiss over her temple. “That’s not a tear.” He expected her to jerk from his hold and, when she didn’t, he moved to the other side and repeated the caress. “Neither is that.”
“I must have gotten something in my eye.”
Her breathy excuse fluttered in his ear. He kissed his way across her cheek until his lips hovered over hers. “Yeah, that must be it.”
He covered her mouth with his, and the gentle shudder of her body was an elemental siren’s cry he was helpless to ignore. He dropped one hand to the small of her back and eased her closer. He needn’t have bothered. She pressed against him, her fingers sliding over his waist to his chest.
Tilting his head, he took the kiss deeper, and she met him move for move. His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as she captured his tongue with hers and sucked. He repositioned his hand on her back to bring her into more precise contact with his erection and couldn’t hold back his deep groan.
All his senses firing, he burrowed his hand beneath the hem of her sweater and traced his fingertips over her ribs to the heavy lower swell of her breast. She gasped, breaking the kiss, and he recaptured her mouth with a hunger that could only be satisfied by a complete plundering. He devoured her, sinking his tongue deep, and she hummed her approval.
Reason fled. The silk of her bra was cool, but the firm mound beneath was warm as he peeled back the material to slip his hand inside. Tight with carnal need, her nipple stabbed at the center of his palm, and she squirmed against him.
Releasing her mouth, he dipped his knees, lifting her sweater at the same time. Her chest rose and fell on heavy breaths. Eyes full of need, she threaded her fingers through his hair, guiding his mouth to her bared breast. Like a man starved, he took her into his mouth, swirling his tongue around her nipple.
Her scent was honey and vanilla mixed with the heady musk of her arousal; a familiar combination he’d gone without for far too long. She bucked against him, jerking her hands to his waist to bury them beneath the hem of his sweatshirt. Cool fingers explored his ribs, pecs, the balls of his shoulders, then traveled lower, over his abs and lower still until she cupped his painfully rigid length in her palm. Squeezing gently, she slid her palm down, then up, measuring him.
Sweet Jesus, in another moment, he’d explode. His head spun and his ears began to ring. He thrust his hips helplessly, and the top of his head nearly came off at her throaty moan. The sights and sounds, tastes and scents, all so familiar, threatened to unman him. The ringing in his ears grew louder. With a final stab of his tongue he released her breast and lifted his head.
“My ears are ringing.”
Her eyes slowly slid open as if she were waking from a dream, and he groaned at the unabated lust staring back at him.
Then she whimpered. “Mine are, too.”
The sound of her voice doused the X-rated fire racing through his body. Reason snapped back into place and his mind cleared. He glanced around, and glared at the lighted face of her phone on the counter beside them. He dropped his forehead to hers. She automatically lifted her mouth, and he was tempted to say fuck it, and take her right where she stood.
That wouldn’t be wise, however. Lucy wouldn’t be gone long, and doing the dirty on the floor of his empty kitchen would only complicate an already fucked-up situation.
“V.” He lifted his head. Her eyes had closed again. “V,” he repeated. “It’s not our ears. It’s your phone.”
Like she’d been doused with a jug of cold water, she jerked back and bumped into the counter. She looked down, then whimpered and yanked her sweater to her waist, covering herself. Eyes wide with embarrassment, she avoided his gaze and skirted out of his arms. She tucked her chin to her chest and, turning her back, picked up the phone, then moaned.
“Who is it?”
She didn’t turn around, and didn’t answer immediately. “Gracie Malone.”
Chapter 15
“You going to answer?”
V scrunched her eyes shut. Answering Gracie’s call when she was still vibrating with lust was a bad idea, but it would give her an opportunity to escape Sam’s presence for a few minutes. God. If her phone hadn’t rung, they wo
uld have both been naked in under a minute.
“Um. Yeah.” She opened her eyes, spotted the back door, and headed straight for it.
“Where are you going?” The slight edge of humor in his voice grated on her over-sensitized nerves. How he could possibly find anything remotely funny about what they’d almost done was beyond her. She didn’t answer. Yanking open the door, she stepped outside.
“You might want to put on your co—”
She slammed the door behind her as she thumbed the screen of her phone. “Hello, Gracie.”
“I’m considering revoking your girlfriend card.”
“Excuse me?” Damn it. She’d forgotten how cold it had turned. Hunching her shoulders against the chilly wind, she hurried toward her rental.
“You and Sam are seeing each other and you didn’t think that was something I’d want to hear about firsthand?”
She froze with her hand on the car door. “What?”
“One of Jake’s buddies from Barlow called this morning and mentioned you and Sam had shown up together at some Christmas Eve party. And by together, I mean together.”
V groaned, opened the car door, and slumped into the front seat. There was no point in denying it. Apparently, the Barlow grapevine was alive and well, and it had connections in Manhattan. Gracie wouldn’t believe her, anyway, and once they were back in Manhattan and Sam put his plan in action for Caroline’s benefit, Gracie would see for herself what happened to V whenever Sam got within ten feet.
“I’m screwed, Gracie.” V dropped her head against the headrest and stared at Sam’s house.
“Screwed as in you’ve gotten naked and sweaty with the Marauders’ new offensive coordinator? Or screwed as in, holy shit, I’m in big trouble?”
V blew a windy sigh. “Both.”
“Get. Out!” Gracie lowered her voice. “You slept with him? You’ve only been there three days. Damn, girl. You work fast.”
A pained laugh worked its way up V’s throat. “I haven’t slept with him. Yet. But it’s only a matter of time. When I’m around him, it’s like my brain cells malfunction.”
Gracie’s sigh floated through the phone’s earpiece. “Don’t you love when that happens?”
Not particularly and definitely not in this case. “I don’t have a lot of experience with this particular phenomenon.” Except with Sam. Only with Sam.
“Then it’s time you got some, my friend. But you said ‘both.’ What’s the problem?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, V told Gracie a condensed version of the conversation she and Sam had had about Caroline and her concerns, and Sam’s plan to address them.
Gracie snorted. “You’re making this up to toy with me, aren’t you?”
“I wish I was.”
A long pause, then, “Okay. This isn’t an accusation or anything. You know I love you and only want you to be happy, but why would you agree to such a thing unless you were hoping something real would come of it?”
V sighed. “Because Sam was right when he said I owed him. I threw his proposal, along with his love, in his face when I walked out on him without a word.”
“You were, what, eighteen? We’re talking ancient history, V. Give yourself a break. You were a kid. Kids do stupid things. Granted, you should have faced Sam a long time ago and settled things between you, but what’s done is done. The only question left to ask is, if there was a chance to win him back, would you take it?”
In a heartbeat. But how could she after what she’d done? “Yes, but—”
“No ‘buts.’ There’s no time like the present to put the past behind you for good. Apologize, beg him for forgiveness, then jump his bones for real. Everybody wins.”
Gracie made it sound so simple, but uncertainty gnawed at V’s gut. Although Sam was justifiably curious about the true reason she’d left him, he’d said it was up to her whether or not she told him. Did he mean it? Would he be willing to take a chance on them again without knowing what had shattered them the last time? Or would the past always be there, hovering over them until it eventually destroyed them both?
Wrapping the fingers of her free hand around the steering wheel, she sucked in a breath. When she’d finally come to her senses after leaving Florida, she’d promised herself she’d never be a coward again. Career-wise, she’d kept that promise, clawing her way to the top of her industry with a no-holds-barred attitude. It was time she applied the same to her personal life.
She loved Sam, always had, and she did want him back. If that wasn’t to be, at least she could console herself with the knowledge that she’d tried.
Swallowing nerves, she took the plunge. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Atta girl. Where are you?”
“In my rental car in Sam’s driveway.”
“Where is he?”
V eyed the plate-glass window of his living room. “He’s in the house.”
“Is he alone?”
“For the moment. Lucy went for ice cream with the neighbors.”
“Perfect. Get out of the car and go inside. When you get there, take off your shirt and say your piece.”
V laughed. “I think I can take things from there.”
“Good. Make sure you call me the minute you get back to town. I want every single hot detail.”
V shook her head. “I’m hanging up now.”
Gracie snickered. “Love you.”
“Love you back.”
* * * *
As it turned out, V didn’t have an opportunity to say her piece, topless or otherwise. The neighbors’ SUV pulled to the curb, delivering Lucy home before V had taken three steps toward the house. Sam had finished wiping out the fridge when they got inside, and V slipped into the bathroom to change her clothes.
With nothing left to do, Sam locked up the house and joined Lucy and V at her rental. After stowing their bags in the trunk, he dropped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Do you think Manhattan is ready for us, kid?”
The trip for ice cream seemed to have repaired Lucy’s earlier mood. She turned to him and grinned. “You, maybe, but no way is the Big Apple ready for me.”
V’s heart was in complete meltdown as she started the car.
Several hours later, their bags were checked, and they boarded their flight. Like a mischievous matchmaker, Lucy maneuvered V and Sam into adjoining first-class seats, claiming she wanted pictures of the Manhattan skyline for her first MyWorld post and the view from V’s seat was better. Sam squinted at her as if he saw through the excuse, but he didn’t seem upset with the arrangement. V fidgeted at his side throughout the three-hour flight. Although anxious to speak to him, she didn’t think the flight attendants would approve if she whipped off her blouse.
Likewise, she found no opportunity to talk to him alone when she dropped them off at their new home. It was late, and it had been a long three days. She said good night and, on the drive back to the city, returned one of Gracie’s three missed calls to say Sam’s seduction had been postponed to a later date.
When that would be, however, she didn’t know.
* * * *
Sam sat on the edge of the couch in his new living room and triggered the TV remote. The seventy-inch flat-screen came to life, and he scrolled through the channels to ESPN. Setting aside the remote, he picked up the package he’d found on the table in the foyer when they’d arrived an hour ago, and peeled back the seal. Along with the playbook Caroline had said would be waiting for him, there were several full-color pamphlets and a handwritten note welcoming him to the team. It ended with a PS:
I asked my assistant to gather some information on the arts academies you mentioned for your daughter. See enclosed. If you should need assistance expediting the application process, let me know.
He flipped through one of the glossy brochures, then lifted his gaze to the ceiling. For a man who faced problems head-on in his professional life, he’d done a piss-poor job when it came to the p
ersonal side of things. With V, certainly, but also with Lucy. Her despondency this afternoon only proved he’d been handling the situation with the DNA test all wrong. He’d told V he’d tried to talk to Lucy about it and she refused to listen but, the truth was, he hadn’t tried very hard. Anxious himself over what the results would reveal, he’d backed down each time she’d shown the least resistance.
Gathering up the pamphlets, he shoved to his feet and headed for the stairs. V was right. Lucy needed him, and somehow, over the past four months, she’d gone from an obligation he’d felt compelled to accept to the child of his heart. It was time she knew it.
He paused before the open door leading to Lucy’s third-floor bedroom and rapped his knuckles on the wood. “You decent, kid?”
“Yeah.”
Ducking his head to avoid the dormered ceiling, he climbed the narrow staircase. With a book in her lap, Lucy sat curled on the overstuffed chair near the window. She met his gaze, her dark eyes wary, and he cursed beneath his breath.
“You all settled in?” He walked across the hardwood floor to stand beside the large ottoman at the foot of the chair.
“There wasn’t much to settle. All I had was a backpack.”
He grunted and sat beside her feet. “Here.” He held out the pamphlets. “You need to look through these.”
Suspicion flickered in her eyes. She kept her hands on her book. “What are they?”
“Brochures.” When she didn’t take them, he tucked them between the arm of the chair and her hip. “There are three of them. Each representing one of the arts academies I mentioned the other day.”
She looked down and flipped a page in her book. “I told you, I want to go to a regular high school.”
“Tough.” Her head jerked up, but he didn’t give her the chance to speak. “We’re at a crossroads here, kid. A new life for both of us, and we’re going to clear up a few things before we start. Beginning with you believing I’m going to cut you loose if the results of the DNA test come back negative.” He dipped his head for emphasis. “That isn’t going to happen, Lucy.”
To Win Her Back Page 13